


Levatio

by KatieTaylor



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Episode: s04e24 Gethsemane, Episode: s05e02 Redux II, F/M, Romance, Suicidal Thoughts, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 15:16:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3815215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieTaylor/pseuds/KatieTaylor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is there any reason to live?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Original header and end notes. It's interesting to see how I've progressed since I started writing fan fic back in the 90s. All I've done to these pieces is fix typos and formatting.)
> 
> FINISHED: April 17, 1998  
> DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Anywhere, just tell me!  
> SPOILER WARNING: Gethsemane/Redux/2  
> RATING: PG  
> CONTENT WARNING: MSR/Angst  
> CLASSIFICATION: S/RA  
> SUMMARY: Is there any reason to live?
> 
> Record breaking Disclaimer: Not Mine.

Mulder sat on his leather couch in the darkened living room, with his gun in his hand. If he had any balls, it would have been over already. He would be lying on the floor in front of his door with a hole in his head, because if he had any courage, he would have shut the door and put a bullet in his brain before he reached his living room. Instead, he was sitting on the couch, toying with the gun, scared shitless of the idea of pulling the trigger and ending his sorry excuse for a life.

He should have done it a long time ago, maybe even twenty-odd years ago when he had first thought about it. There had always been something holding him back, though, something he could use as an excuse instead of facing the fact that he was just a coward. First there had been his mother, he needed to take care of her. Fairly soon it became obvious that the earth could have swallowed him up in front of her eyes and she wouldn't have noticed. Any warm body who would hold her hand and bring her food would have done to take care of her. Even after she came out of whatever fog she had been living in enough to get dressed and go out and operate like a real person, he knew she couldn't really see him. Then had come the idea that Samantha needed him to find her. That one lasted almost 25 years. When Samantha had made it clear that she was as found as she wanted to be, he still couldn't do it because he believed Scully loved him and she would be upset if he died, but now he knew that she didn't care about him, and there were no excuses left.

So what was holding him back? One word-cowardice.

Perhaps, a little voice whispered to him, Scully really did love him, but she had decided to hide her feelings for some reason. He chose to ignore it, he didn't want to think right now. All he wanted to do was act. To end the pain and suffering and guilt that he had wanted to be free of for -how many years now? How many decades? Two and a half decades. Twenty-five years. That's how long he had been carrying this. At first when he had wanted to die, he thought that maybe it was just the shock of losing Sam. That the feelings would wear off. But they hadn't. It had only gotten worse. How long was a person expected to suffer before they were allowed to just let it all go? How long was he expected to live until he was allowed to let go? How lonely did he have to be to realize he was alone? How many times did he have to be rejected, or screw up and get someone he loved in trouble, to realized how worthless he was? How many people had to tell him they didn't love him before he realized that perhaps he wasn't worthy of love. Or maybe not even capable of love. Perhaps all he felt towards Scully was lust. Could that be it? Was everything had had felt for her for five years simply a longing to get in her pants?

Everyone in his life that he had ever cared about had left him. Samantha had been taken. (Or maybe he really had killed her?) His mother had hidden herself away. His father had told him over and over what a disappointment he was. Phoebe had left him. probably never even loved him-just led him along the garden path, just waiting for an opportunity push him off. And Scully didn't love him. Now that he knew this, it was like she had left him too, though it was only his own self-delusion that made it seem that way.

He loved Scully and he only wanted what was best for her. That would be for him to not be around. With him out of the picture, she could move ahead with her career. She wouldn't be stuck in the basement as one of the FBI's most unwanted. She could even resolve the rift that had grown between herself and her family and friends since she started working with him. 

The only way to accomplish that was to kill himself. Or get himself killed. But that took planning, and a case-neither of which he was particularly up for tonight. He drew the gun up to his temple.

XxXxXxX

Scully was still a little shocked by what had transpired earlier that night. God, what had she done? What had just happened here? Mulder's actions had left her in a state of complete confusion. She replayed the conversation again in her mind, hoping that the words would make sense after hearing them for the hundredth time.

She had answered the knock at her door to find Mulder on the other side. He was staring at the ground, and shifting his weight from foot to foot. He was nervous about something. She invited him in and, after a moments hesitation, he entered her apartment and sat on her couch.

"What's wrong, Mulder?" she had asked. He had closed his eyes as if gathering his thoughts. When he opened them, he had looked straight into hers. She had been certain he was looking straight into her soul.

"I love you." He loved her? _Helovesmehelovesmehelovesme_. For a moment, Dana Katherine Scully was the happiest woman on the planet, or in the universe, if she believed in the existence of extraterrestrials. But then cold harsh reality reared it's ugly head. They were partners, and although she wanted to throw her arms around him and tell him she loved him, too-what about the X-Files? If they admitted their feelings for each other, would the partnership suffer? Would they be too focused on each other to focus on their cases? Should she simply try and convince herself it was a dream?

"And I need to know-Do you love me, too?" That was the moment of truth. Dana had had about two seconds to decided the course of their lives. She looked into his eyes.

"No, Mulder, I'm sorry, but I don't. Not like that. I mean, I do love you," there, that cleared her conscience of lying to him, "but I love you as my best friend." And that was the truth-just not the whole truth. And she had to keep being the sensible one in their   
partnership-even if she was sure it was going to kill her.

She had met mothmen, lived through Pfaster and Duane Barry. She'd beaten cancer. Met every form of human mutation known-and not known-to man. She'd fought against alien/human hybrids, played mind games with serial killers, and gone up against the Consortium. She'd gone through all that and more, but what she saw next had frightened her more than any of those.

Mulder looked relieved.

At first she was angry. _He comes in here, tells me he loves me, possibly ruining our partnership, and then looks relieved when I tell him I don't feel the same way? What the hell's with that?_ Then she was concerned. _What the hell is going on in his mind that he would look relieved that I didn't love him? What is he thinking?_

Then he'd gotten up off the couch, said good-bye and left her apartment before she could say another word.

Dana had to see him again. She had to know what was going on. Why was he relieved? Her mind ran through various scenarios on her way to Mulder's apartment. Perhaps he didn't really love her. He just said that because he thought it was what she wanted to hear, but he didn't really mean it, and he was relieved that she didn't have any feelings for him. Yeah, right. Whatever. Maybe he was relieved because if she didn't feel the same way, their partnership wouldn't suffer. Possibly he just needed her to know how he felt, but didn't want to get involved because of their work and since she didn't feel the same way, they wouldn't have to worry. Could it be that he had seen right through her when she told him she didn't love him, and he was relieved to know she did?

XxXxXxX

He'd thought about leaving a note for somebody-anybody. But who? Scully? No, she probably wouldn't need or want that. She'd just be happy to leave the X-Files and go along her merry way. The little voice inside his head neglected to point out all the times--countless times--she'd risked her career and her life for him. Indecision struck again as he felt the cool metal against his temple. _Coward!_ The voice screamed at him. _She'll be better off without you!_

He slowly started to pull the trigger.

XxXxXxX

Scully walked up to the door marked #42 and took a deep breath as she knocked on the door. After a few tries, she decided that Mulder wasn't home, but that he wouldn't mind if she let herself in to wait for him. After all, they had something important to talk about. She found his key and started to unlock his door. Scully was slightly concerned when she found it already unlocked. Then she was terrified when she heard an animal-like scream coming from Mulder's living room.

"Mulder!" She ran the few feet into the room to find Mulder alone, and in time to see him pull the gun away from his temple and hurl it across the room.

"I'm a Fucking chicken shit!" Suddenly he stood up and turned around, coming face to face with her. "Scully?" All she could do was stare at him for a few moments, totally horrified by what she had just witnessed. Mulder turned away, embarrassed that she had seen him.

"Mulder?" She tried to reach out to him, but he spun around and blocked her hand. "What's wrong?" _'What's wrong?' The man you love almost killed himself and the best you can come up with is 'What's wrong?'_

"I'm a fucking coward, that's what's wrong."

"What are you talking about?" He didn't answer. "Mulder," she started again, sitting down on his couch, "How many times have you done this?" He looked at her with anger and confusion in his eyes. "How many times have you held a gun to your head." She knew it couldn't be a question of whether he'd ever done it before.

He let out a small laugh. "I think, Scully, that I lost track quite a few years ago." He still wouldn't sit down, and Scully could only look at him in complete surprise. She hadn't expected quite that answer. She knew that, because of the way he was, the number would be high-she could think of numerous times in just the five years she had known him that he had probably thought about it. She had to know-after so many years, why he hadn't done it-although she was eternally grateful he never had.

"There's was always someone that I would leave behind. At first there was my mom-I couldn't really leave her alone after she had just lost her daughter. But that didn't really last long. Then it was Samantha-I had to find her. You know how long that lasted." Finally, he moved to sit on the couch, although he stayed as far away from her as it would allow. "Then there was you." Mulder got back up again. "Now-now there's no one." 

Scully was astonished. Then she was angry. "You mean to tell me that you came home and you were going to kill yourself because I said I didn't love you?!"

"No! Well, actually, I suppose so. But that's not the whole reason." Why did she care, anyway? "All these years, Samantha and you were the only things keeping me going-literally. And it wasn't necessarily because I wanted to be with you, although I did. It was because I thought you needed me. Because Samantha needed to be found. Because, I guess selfishly, I thought that I would hurt you by taking my own life."

"Well, Mulder, there's no need to do me any favors." Her anger began to subside. 

"Yeah, well, obviously I was wrong."

"So, then, what made you stop?"

He looked away from her for a moment. "All these years, I've had these 'reasons', but they were all just excuses to cover up the real reason. I'm just a coward."

Scully couldn't help but smile at that. "Mulder, you are the farthest thing from a coward that I can imagine. And just because I told you I have no burning desire to jump into bed with you, that doesn't mean that I wouldn't be upset at your death. Maybe somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that." Mulder shrugged, but still wouldn't turn to look at her. 

Scully thought for a moment about how to phrase her next statement. "You are the most important person in my life right now. I do need you, Mulder, more than I can ever tell you." Boy, isn't that the truth, she thought. "Please, please believe that I would be devastated if you died. Promise me that you'll come tell me if you feel like this again."

Mulder sighed, then nodded, and they shared a comfortable silence for several minutes. 

"Mulder?"

"Mmm?"

"You want a drink or something? I could sure use one."

"Uh, yeah, sure Scully." She got up to fix them some drinks. When she reached the kitchen, she looked back and found that Mulder had leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry I lied to you, Mulder," she whispered to herself.


	2. Chapter 2

_I should have told him how I really felt to begin with and none of this would have happened_. Scully had come so close to losing him today. All because of a lie.

For the past five years, they had been searching for 'The Truth'. The Truth about Samantha's abduction. The Truth behind her own missing time, the chip in her neck, the government cover-ups. But the easiest truth to uncover she had kept hidden, even given the perfect opportunity to reveal it.

Mulder had told her how he felt about her-that he loved her. All she had had to say was 'I love you, too'. But she hadn't and he had gone home convinced she didn't care about him-wouldn't miss him-and almost killed himself. That provided her second opportunity. She could have told him when she had arrived at his apartment to find him throwing the gun across the room. 

_Dammit, Mulder!_ she thought. [I'm not ready for this!] She loved him, there was not doubt about that, but she didn't know if she was ready for a change in their relationship. He had told her then that he was too much of a coward to pull the trigger. But she was the coward. She was too scared to take the next step in their relationship. Too scared of him, of his ever expanding presence in her life, and of her own feelings. She wished she didn't have to make this decision now. She was angry at Mulder, then, and his need to know. Why couldn't he just wait? The answer came easily to Scully. She had lied to him, and deep down, she knew he realized that, and that was probably what he couldn't handle.

Scully sat at her kitchen table, a forgotten cup of tea in front of her. She had intended to drink the tea, take a hot bath and try to relax, but that hadn't happened. Not that she had really expected it too. She could not forget how much her lie, innocent at the time, had almost cost her. It was as though she had held the gun on him. Again. Had she already dug herself too deep? Could she get herself out of this? Well, she could try.

*********

Fox Mulder sat on his couch. The only noticeable change from the scene of several hours previous was the remote control in his hand, exchanged for the gun. He was basically back to normal.

Earlier, Scully had found some iced tea in his fridge and they had drunk in silence. She had stayed a few minutes longer, and then quietly asked him if he was going to be all right, said goodbye and left.

He still couldn't figure out why he hadn't pulled the trigger. At first he attributed it to simple cowardice. But somehow, now, that reason seemed inadequate. Maybe Scully was right. Maybe deep down he did think Scully cared about him. Now that he thought back to the conversation at her apartment, he remembered that she had said she loved him, just not the way he loved her. She loved him as her best friend. 

All he had heard at the time was, "No, Mulder, I'm sorry, but I don't-" and tuned the rest out. He had taken it to mean what it meant every other time that he had heard it: 'Have a nice life, don't care if you die'. It didn't matter that Scully was none of the others; that he had only had the courage to tell her because he knew she wouldn't treat him the same way 

A knock at his door pulled him from his reverie, and with a groan, he rose to answer it.

"Scully?"

"Hi, Mulder. Um, can I come in?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." He stepped aside and held the door as she walked into the hall, then closed it behind her.

Scully walked to the couch and sat. "I-I need to talk to you." She looked away, collecting her thoughts. Mulder sat beside her. _I will do this,_ she told her herself. _I can do this_. She turned to him and continued. "Mulder, this is all my fault, I'm sorry. I've made such a terrible mistake." She stopped there, a tear rolling down her cheek and looked away.

"Scully." He took her hand and she turned back to face him. "What are you talking about? What's wrong?" He was getting worried, and her continued silence wasn't helping. Whatever it was she had come to say, it was becoming apparent that she was quickly losing her nerve. "Is this about what happened earlier? What I said to you?" She waited a moment, then gave him a small nod. "Scully, there was-"

"I lied to you."

"What? What are you talking about?" Scully took a deep breath.

"Um, the part where I said I loved you, but only as my best friend, I lied about that." 

_Here it comes,_ he thought.

She continued. "You *are* my best friend, Mulder, but you're also so much more. I love you as more than my best friend. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone, more than I ever thought I was capable of loving someone. And I have been in love with you for a long time. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before." 

Mulder couldn't say anything for a long time. He just stared into her eyes, seeing truth and love and a desperate need for forgiveness. 

"Why?" She gave him a quizzical look. "Why couldn't you tell me?" She gave him a shy smile.

"You said that you were a coward because you couldn't pull the trigger and end your life. But I was the coward. I was the one who was too afraid of my own feelings. To tell you how I felt until I almost lost you. I don't know what I would do without you, Mulder." She rested her hand on his arm and looked into his eyes. "I love you."

Mulder smiled and slowly leaned forward touching his lips to hers. She pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. He didn't think he would have to search too hard for a reason to live any more.

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's notes: Levatio is a Latin word meaning `relief'. 
> 
> Thanks as always to my editors: Regina Harter, StevieAnn I'll miss all   
> your ideas!,


End file.
